One of the things I love most about Charlie is he sees what needs to be done and does it. No need to form a committee, and discuss it to death. No ignoring it and hope someone else will step up to the plate. (Okay, to be honest, there were a few incidents where he left a scrap of toilet paper on the roll instead of replacing it. Hey, no one’s perfect.) But all in all, my Charlie’s a doer, and that includes writing poetry about what he’s doing. Here’s the latest. Happy to Have Done My Bit Today I saw a scary sight Drivin’ back to my abode Something dark was sitting right In …

After two months off, due to my eye situation, I finally returned to the A&P last week. Felt like a kid going back to school. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Check out this post. It’ll bring you up to speed. Returning to the A&P was like coming home. It put some normalcy back into my life, and I can’t tell you how good that feels. I’m still getting used to my eye not being 100%. I thought the bubble would be long gone by September. “They,” meaning the internet, said these sorts of bubbles are usually absorbed back into your body in six to eight weeks. Eight weeks was September 1, and my bubble …

After a certain age, your body changes. You and I know this to be true. The fat in your butt inches it’s way ‘round your stomach. That extra plumpness that was keeping your breast perky has headed south for the duration, taking up permanent residence on your inner thighs. Your hair migrates from where you want it to someplace else, where you don’t. Then there’s the feet. Women, like me, tend to get bunions caused by shoes that are too tight, too narrow or too high. In short, they’re cute, but impractical. Hey, you have to suffer to be beautiful, right? Men get what Charlie and his friends call “old man feet.” I don’t even …

You can’t underestimate the power of a good night’s sleep. It’s true for kids, and personal experience has taught me, it’s true for seniors, too. What with my eye situation and the heat, sleeping good has been a challenge for both me and Charlie. ‘Til last night. I’ll let the Poet Laureate of Mahoosuc Mills tell you all about it. The Couch She’s pitching about Like a boat on the sea And pulling the covers Right off of me A night without sleep That’s what I’m dreading I know exactly Where I am heading The couch That is where I always go The couch When she gets to fidgeting so An island of peace Where …

“Charlie, what’s up with the beach towel in the bathroom?” “Geesh, the ones we’re using are the worse for wear, kind of thin and scratchy, so I thought I’d give that one a go instead.” “You’re right, Honey, we do have an Econo Lodge situation. I’ve been too busy to deal with it. But things have quieted down. I’ll get right on it. You know how much I love a shopping assignment.” “That I do, dear. Make sure they’re dark.” “Dark?” “You know, so they won’t show the dirt.” So, off I went to the big city, Bangor, solo. It’s not really the kind of shopping excursion you bring a friend on. Ended up getting …

So the other day, I’m working at the A&P, ringing out Pearl Plaisted when I notice she has on the cutest pair of angel earrings. “Pearl,” I says, “look at those angel earrings. Aren’t they just adorable?” (See, I believe if someone is looking sharp, you should tell them.) Pearl smiles. “Got ‘em down to the Dollar Store. Fifty cents!” “That is a bargain at twice the price! Oh, and look at your angel pin.” “Ida,” she says, “this is my guardian angel. I’ve taken to wearing it ever since that incident down to Home Depot.” No one else was in line, so I shut off my register light, “Do tell, Pearl!” “Well, Hank and …

I’ve been putting off writing this blog post. It’s been almost two weeks now since we had to say good-bye to our little buddy. Scamp didn’t seem to be in any pain, but he was just a shadow of his former self. The spunk was gone, the spark, too. No more long walks, no jumping up on the Barcalounger love seat, that little tail of his no longer stood at attention. Why, even his bark had changed. He didn’t eat much, except for treats. I swear, the only thing keeping him going was love. I woke in the middle of the night hearing Scamp try to get comfortable, going from his bed to the floor …

Saturday, my husband come back from the Transfer Station, chuckling. “What is it, Charlie?” “It was classic, Ida. Just classic.” There’s something about that place that gives Charlie a thrill. He always looks so happy loading up the truck with trash and recycling, and heading off into the morning mist. The allure is lost on me, but Charlie’s love affair with the Transfer Station gives me some time alone to putter ‘round before I head off for my weekly appointment with Pasty down to Hair Affair. So, I guess, in a roundabout way, I’m fond of the Transfer Station, too! Remember when the Transfer Station was the dump? Back in the days before cable TV, …

Wow! Last week, the weather was wacky to the max! Mid-week we got a “dusting” of snow that ended up being about three inches. It was that wet kind of snow that sticks to all the trees and shrubs and makes the world look magical. I took a walk the morning after our little storm. The real feel temps were hovering around 23 degrees, but the sun was shining and the world looked so bright and clear, with a sky the most intense shade of blue. A couple hours later, the trees were bare again. The ice had melted off the cars, and there was this steady drip, drip, drip from the roof as the …

Charlie and me are at the age where we spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter. We walk into a room and think, Now, what am I here after? (Tommy’s aunt told me that one, and boy, ain’t it the truth!) If you find yourself always losing things, routine is your friend. It’s simple. Choose a place where something is going to live, say your car keys, and always return the thing in question to it’s home base. That way, it’ll always be there when you need it. Easier said than done, right? Your cell phone rings as you’re wrestling grocery bags from the car into the house. You put everything on the …